


The Other Descendant

by orphan_account, ReizJaruu13



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bromance, Half Siblings - Freeform, Humor..., I think I'm going crazy, Love? Possibly? Not yet sure., M/M, Partly Alternate Universe, Partly Canon Divergence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-04
Updated: 2016-02-03
Packaged: 2018-03-26 13:41:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3852865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReizJaruu13/pseuds/ReizJaruu13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Akashi played the piano faultlessly, his pale, delicate fingers gliding on the keys with precision and grace. He refused to acknowledge the anxious boy standing right behind him, staining the pristine, tiled floors with his cheap, worn out shoes.</p><p>"So you're the bastard son of my father? You're here to act like some protagonist and exploit his riches are you? How pathetic."</p><p>He snapped, still not looking away from the musical notes perched on the top of the instrument.</p><p>...</p><p>Akashi felt like a cruel stepsister in fairytale dramas who wants to torture the protagonist of the story.</p><p>But actually, the truth is this: Furihata may look all good and innocent, there may be an angle where he would look cute sometimes, he might do something that completely surprise Akashi. But he is evil. He hogged all the spotlights and attention.</p><p>He'll never let it stay that way though. He has a plan. A foolproof plan.</p><p>(I CHANGED THE TITLE! XD I HOPE YOU DON'T MIND!!!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Heya!
> 
> I've arisen from hell!
> 
> Watcha doin'? Mind reading this one?

Furihata trudged away from the rusty, old gates of the public middle school briskly. Clutching his one and only, already tattered sling bag, that had survived with him since his 10th grade, he hurried down the road.

When the familiar silhouette of his home came into his line of vision, he can't help himself but beam. His home: the slumbers.

He can't wait to tell his grandma about his day at school. He can't wait to scrape the ear of the energetic stray dog with thin fur and skinny stature. He can't wait to greet his other unfortunate friends that earned cash through gathering garbage.

14 year old Furihata had been already contented with his poor life status. He didn't need wealth nor nobility. He's happy enough with his makeshift house squashed between other cramped buildings.

That is until today, when he found his beloved grandparent convulsing helplessly on their poorly furnished floor.

"Help!!! Goodness!!! Somebody, p-please!!!"

With the help of his kind neighbors, they managed to bring the old lady to the nearest and only medical establishment inside the town.

The brunette is still in his uniform and the path they overcame in behalf of arriving here is muddy, the roads are poorly made and they have to walk on their feet for the lack of proper transportation.

Furihata held his grandma as he waited patiently for a nurse to assist them. The place is obviously unmaintained and inorganised, but Furihata is not here to complain.

He eyed the two gossiping nurses who did nothing in attempt to help them. How thoughtful. He wonders why they're even hired. But maybe the establishment is lowly standardised enough that having them was not a bad idea.

It was a moment after when his grandma started jerking violently again. He was so close to yelling at them to get their asses back here and start fulfilling their hippocratic oath (If they ever even knew that) when finally one of them approached him.

Instead of masking a face of hospitality, the female nurse was not even shameful enough to hide his annoyance. She might at least pretend that she cares.

With one crayoned brow raised, she dismissively stated that they have to buy a formula for the syringe to stop the seizures of his old woman.

"What?! B-But we don't have money!! How am I suppose to buy it?!"  
Furihata yelled in panic and incredulity. They didn't even provide a bed for his grandma.

He helplessly watched as she trembles and writhed on the cold tiled floor. He wanted to shout.Tears involuntarily fell from his face. He didn't knew what else to do.

The nurse shook her head. Her lips smudged with cheap lipstick puckered hideously. Furihata wants to puke.

"I'm sorry. But if you won't do it, there's nothing we could--"

"Nothing?!"

Furihata wants to yank his hair out from too much frustration. He held his grandmother's wilted hands tightly.

This is unjustice.

"Haven't you know that it is your own responsibility to treat any patient that approaches your ward? What... what kind of public servant are you?"

That is the moment that he realized that wealth, after all, circulates everything. No amount of love can cure a patient without the use of money.

How cruel his life could be.

"What could we do? I am just following orders. You can't scare me with your little speech just like that kid. If you want this hag to live then do what we prescribe."  
Just after that, she leave an utterly distraught Furihata.

"Wait!"

"What is it now?"  
A snap.

"Just inject the syringe on my grandma. I promise to pay until the third day after this."

For the only person left in his life, he will risk everything.

======

"Sir! Please lend me some few coins! I promise to pay at the end of the month!"

"And how could you, when you still owe me a bounty amount of credits?!"

"I-I could work in your bakery! Just... just--"

"You're not even legal to work for constant wages yet! Go home, youngster! I got no time for you!"

Furihata felt himself forcefully pushed out from the shop as the owner slammed the back door shut.

The familiar pain in his butt didn't affect him. He had been upright all day and night to harvest some cash to pay for the medicines and medical service of the hospital.

It's been the last day of his deadline. He had thickened his cheek to approach friends, acquaintances and even strangers for financial help.

But it is still not enough.

He had no choice but to resort to his last possible solution--

"No, I will not. Anything but that."  
He shook his head, mumbling to himself.

He is walking at the same old, ratty street he used to roam in his childhood days. It's almost nearing evening.

After buying some soup and juice for his grandma with what he've earned (which is not that much), he proceeded walking back to the hospital. He could skip dinner, his hunger was not that important in this situation.

He'd rather starve.

"Grandma? Gran-- Granny!!! Doctor!!! Anyone?! Help!!!"

Fate apparently is having fun with him.

More medicines were prescribed. More bills were layered on top of the other.

He's just 14 year old. He can't find any other way to afford these expenses.

With the crumpled call card he found in one of his deceased mother's drawers, he found his phone to punch these cursed numbers.

Yes. He is going to call his father. One of the most recognized personas who doesn't even know he exist.


	2. The Other Heir

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiiiii!!!! It's me again!!!  
> Please enjoy another one of my insane updates!!!
> 
> *waves hard then cowers back to hibernation*

Akashi Masaomi clucked his tongue almost inaudibly as he emphasized his point yet again infront of the major stockholders of the company. 

"As I said... One is already enough to replace me as the new president of this company."

He further noted, making sure he voiced his claim once again, loud and firm.

"Are you sure Masaomi? The company is expanding in a very rapid pace. We thoroughly doubt if your son could manage such heavy responsibility."

The man in question heave a quiet sigh.

"My son is Akashi Seijuurou. You've already seen him perform tasks in excellence. He could handle anything."

If he could make this decision without asking their permission, he'd already have done that. But he believes that these people had seen an impare on an area he had mislook.

"But performance is not the only one needed to keep the company afloat. It needs communication, an interaction between the superior and the inferior."

"It is indeed. But may I know how this generic point of yours affect your decision of declining my son to run this organization on his own?"

Although Masaomi commits nothing but preeminence when it comes to any field concerning his business, he's a rather ethical man who dignified himself of believing the importance of each individual.

A kind of ability his son, his legitimate son, had never inherited.

"Your son thinks so highly of himself. He was like a dictator. And what did people do when they're so tired of being under his rule?"

Ah. That, he cannot disagree. And so he answered the inquisition according to his own understanding and experience.

"They revolt."

"Exactly. And we don't need someone like that. We need a president. Considerate and sensitive to his people's needs."

"You can't possibly deny it, Masaomi. We know you already knew it. You will need another heir."

Of course, Masaomi knows. He knows that they're not referring on something as chordial as arranged marriage. The middle aged man has gone quite far too much spent in his own work, there will be no time for him to pluck one elegant woman and conjure a son a year after. (if it turns out to be a girl, then he'll be damned to wait for another year again)

Despite that, his inheritor needs proper training. Given the fact that he's almost coming to the point of rendering the sake of the company to the next heir because he'll be having white hairs and crooked bones anytime soon, (but hopefully, not soon enough) he deemed the hellish process impossible and impractical.

Those damned demons were implying one thing.

And suddenly, he remembered those small, deer-like eyes staring at him full of naivety and obliviousness of the outside world.

___

Furihata managed to barely calm himself down as he waited for someone to pick the damn phone, the roots of his veins shout nothing but anxiety and hysteria.

Why did he called the owner of a big business enterprise anyway? Of course no one would answer, obviously.

Oh for the love of bird's shit...

He still can't believe that he's calling his father. After all those years of him persistently telling himself that his father is a indeed a good man who leaves them for good, he never ceased hating hating him.

FOR GOOD. Does he look like he's in a good condition? Does his mother, sick and impaired, look like she's all smiles and beautiful and healthy when he leave?

Shit of bull. Bullshit.

What kind of logical man leave his disabled wife and starved son for good anyway? No one. Or maybe there is. Him.

His mother kept telling him that father leave to manage something in his company. And then later on, he'll be back in no time and they'll leave in a gigantic, lone mansion. And he can eat chocolates and spaghetty (with mozarilla cheese, he's favourite) for all he cares.

But he never came back. Furihata was barely two when he leave so he can't remeber the face of the man he wanted to punch someday whenever they accidentally meet.

Business. Always business.

Businessmen were like that anyway. Money first, spouse later. He even remembered one of those nights when his baachan told him that those people produced cash just like pooping coins and urinating bills without a care in this world.

He laugh a little when he reminisced that time when he interpreted his baachan's story literally. Especially when he stayed all day long in the restroom waiting for his urine to finally turn to gold.

'--ello? Who is this? My superior is still undergoing some business concerns, please relay your message to me. Hello? Excuse me, but if you won't answer, I'm going to--'

He almost forgot that he's waiting for an answer on the phone.

His phone, his ratty, old yet very much loved flip flap phone, was held sternly in between his ear and his calloused, bony hand.

"H-Hello?! I'm really, really sorry! I... I..."

Hot damn. He didn't know what to say.

Furihata had a habbit of doing things in action without really thinking. And now, look at how pityful could this little flaw brought him. Spectacular.

Before he could utter another response, which he doubted to be coherent at all, he heard shufflings. He could faintly hear the quiet patter of shoes and the almost inaudible conversation held by the people at the other line.

And then more shuffling. As if the phone was transferred to the hands of another.

'Could you please appeal your reason of disrupting a very important meeting.'  
A calm, sultry voice asked, slight irritation evident on the lines of fluidly spoken sentences.

And for a second, Furihata felt like falling to sleep. But sleeping when you're currently on the phone is disrespectful, especially when you are talking to the head of the company group.

Oh. He's talking to the head of the company group. Holy cow.

'Think! Think! Think! Divine deities from above please spare me--'

"A-Ano... I am Furihata Hanako's son! And... and... I--"

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Furihata stared dumbly at his ratty, old yet very much loved flip flap phone, unable to generate any logical cause why the caller hung up.

Maybe his load had expired already?

Surely, he hadn't said anything wrong right? He wouldn't be hunted and dismembered right? What if... what--

And his phone suddenly ringed for the newly sent message.

After about an hour debating against himself if he'll read the message or not, he finally-FINALLY-have the courage to flip his phone open and read the golden message--

'Meet me at the cafe near the park after an hour.'

Oh shit. He's the most embecile amongst all the embeciles. Long live his junk of a brain.

He didn't have time to think (as usual) as he bolted out the hospital room and sprinted towards the escalator. It's pretty jammed, but that's okay because--

Today, Furihata inferred, was the day he beat the elevator on reaching ground floor with just the use of stairs.

___

Akashi Seijuurou is flawless.

Akashi Seijuurou is the epitome of perfection.

Akashi Seijuurou is gorgeous.

Akashi Seijuurou gets what he wants.

He seems to won the genetic raffle for being blessed with the most beautiful of looks and the most astonishing of brain. Everyone either envies or admires him. Everything of used to him is sculpted in high quality and presented in a golden platter.

His locker always got its daily mail of dozens of love letters, boy and girl alike. Every valentines, Murasakibara, one of his minions, always has his tummy full and contented with all the redhead's chocolates and delicacies received secretly or indirectly from his admirers.

He literally rules the Teiko Middle School, a high-rated academy designed for only the ones who have money.

No one disobeys him. No one goes against him. They just can't. Some say that it's because he's too perfect and some conclude that its about it looks. Because after all, who could resist a man like him?

Yet the only ones who knew the real reason was his teammates in basketball...

Akashi maybe perfect... but he never was a saint.

Akashi hang out with them, because they deserved his recognition and attention. He 'politely' declines any offer of some typical girls who corners him in a lone hallway and proceeds to declare their love for him because...

They're lowlives, they're insignificant. Akashi didn't need them.

Because Akashi is not kind. He's dangerous.

Because Akashi is not a diplomat. He dictates.

Because Akashi didn't want friends. He toyed with people.

All except for one.

The Teiko point guard recalled a pair of pale blue eyes staring right through him placidly. With skin as white as snow. With stature frail and delicate. With style unique and elegant. With beauty subtle yet enchanting.

Kuroko Tetsuya. A man Akashi wants to own.

Akashi thought of him as he seated at the back portion of the car, the driver operating the vehicle stoicly. As usual, he had the highest grade at the pop quiz in their History subject. As usual, he got his daily dose of love letters. As usual, he performed the best during his club's drills and training.

And as usual, he and Tetsuya sat on one of the empty benches, shoulders bumped ever so slightly and hands almost touching each other. As usual, they talked about meaningful things...

Including their little argument about which is more delicious, chocolate or vanilla. Akashi permitted his Tetsuya to won the argument tho. Because he liked the way his cyan haired teammate's eyes glint with triumph.

Although he would like to insist that Tetsuya is way more delicious...

Moments later, Akashi felt the car halting to a stop.

Ah. He's home. A large, highly-styled, victorican mansion stand before him with a huge, open, awaiting door.

The redhead trekked through a batch of maids and butlers lining up to pay their respects to the young master.

'That's right, people lower than excellent are worthless. They are destined to succumb to the ones that were far more powerful.'

He walked through the long hall without casting any of them as much as a single glance. After all, they didn't deserve one.

Just as he was about through the last pair of servant, a head butler approached him, declaring a sudden summon from his father at the master office.

"Young master, Akashi-sama is requesting you to attend at his office this moment."

___

"Insolence. I can't accept this."  
The young Akashi proclaimed, very enraged. The calm in his voice betray the furious boiling of his blood inside.

After finishing one heated conversation as to why the son fired another maid because she didn't made his bed to perfection, ("Because, Otou-san, she's supposed to take the utmost care on my belongings, especially to the haven I used to succumb on my slumber.") the father and son had, once again, engaged to another debate.

The recognition of the other heir.

Which is... by the way, unjustifiable and just pure bullshit.

His father sighed for the god-know-how-many times as he once again persist his refusing, stubborn son.

"I've made my decision, Seijuurou. And as long as I am the head of the house, you could do nothing but obey me. Unless you began to change your perspective about things, I could do only just that."

Heaving a rather harsh exhale, Seijuurou tried to calm himself.

All this time, he lived, possessing the things he desired all alone. All the attention was directed on him. And he thought, he's going to live a life with that kind of luxury...

Until the other, bastard and utterly pathetic son of his father came to surface.

He could do well himself! Why can't they just get it?! He could secure those money-starved employees with better futures?! Why do they need another heir at all?!

To have the half of what he possessed? Or to divide some of the attention to the other?

'I swear.'

He muttered. Eyes like fire with so much hatred.

'Whoever you are, you'll going to experience my version of hell.'


	3. The Irrevocable Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Akashi met the other heir...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to send my eternal thanks to Sai-chan for editing this for me...
> 
> Aaaaand... I wouldn't delay this further!!!

Furihata blasted through the streets, the scenery of the smoky urban passing through his vision in one swift motion. He can't believe his luck, he's finally going to see his father. A man, made by his innocent dreams and his mother's string of positive descriptive words, trapped in the wilderness of his mind since long ago.

 

And he's not yet sure if he could handle burrowing his past once again.

 

But as if he has any other choices. If it means forgetting all the vicious things the man, his father, had done, breaking the trust of one naive child and leaving a miserable and completely helpless family, then he will.

 

Somehow, he felt anxious. He didn't know what to feel this very moment. Hatred? Disappointment? He wanted to approach the man with his head held high as he raise his middle fingers in the air while saying profanities with dignity.

 

'I survived without you here, asshole.'

 

'It's time to atone your sins, you untrustworthy human!'

 

'Where have you been for the past 14 years of my glorious life?'

 

Yet a small part of his mindscape, a small child who still loves and hopes for his father, asked in a barely audible voice: 'What can't I give? Why did you leave, Papa?'

 

A horde of black suited men (who looks identical to those drug dealers Furihata had seen in movies. The shades they're wearing didn't help his dilemma either) approached once he step foot at a probably recognized restaurant which name he can't even pronounce. He was about to tell them to find another healthy victim because he has lung, prostate, and brain cancer and his organs are totally useless to begin with if they ever thought of selling them in the black market, when one of them (Furihata refrains from recognizing their physical features because they all look the same anyway) announced that Akashi-sama is expecting him.

 

Without giving the nuthead any chance of saying something, strong hardened arms clipped in either sides of his armpits and proceeded to half drag him towards the Akashi-sama they were talking about.

 

He concluded that the man in question (Akashi-sama) might be the man he was talking about so he let the situation be, suppressing any urges of reminding the black suited creatures that he could walk like any normal homo sapiens in case he might piss one of them and dissect him for real.

 

The restaurant is designed of French. Dazzling crystals and diamonds created varying shades of aquamarine, amethyst and apricot that pierced through every nook and cranny of the large room. Furihata had once forgotten that he was in a freakin' restaurant, but in a high arched Victorian mansion with lavishly shining floors that reflect even the moles and pimples of your face.

 

They passed through series of super long tables with pleated and embossed clothes that may probably worth more than his life until they reached the back and more elegant part of the establishment (if the whole restaurant is not as elegant as it is). He wonders how a restaurant could look more like a banquet hall than a restaurant.

 

As he trudged the grounds with his inappropriately dirty and muddied sneakers he realized one thing, he's not going to meet his father, but a distant stranger who cares nothing of his turmoil but the trade of their upcoming contract.

 

Finally, he was put down on his feet. He suddenly felt too conscious of himself. He thought if his hair is really that unruly, if there's still smudges of sleeping history in his eyes or if his face is similar to a man who wandered into an adventure at the jungle.

 

Seated at the other edge of the fancy table is a man with no outstanding features. He looks so... normal. Platters of expensive and highly flavored cuisines lined on the table in front of him and Furihata, for a second, felt like drooling. Yet the typicality of his physique contrasted the impeccability of his refined gestures and mannerisms. He moves like water, fluid, elegant and sophisticated. Furihata questioned his mind, which was already downing if we're talking about sanity, of how someone so ordinary could still manage to outstand, moreover to attract any form of attention.

 

But here it is in this form of this man.

 

His ordinary brown locks seemed to look even softer the longer you stare at it, his chocolate orbs seemed to extend miles and miles deeper the longer you gaze through it, and the longer you stayed with this man, the more you would realize that he's more than what you think he is. No wonder his mother fell for such exotic and very unique charm. And he didn't even get to talk to Furihata yet.

 

"Good morning, Furihata Kouki. Take a seat."

 

Voice as smooth as silk yet as firm as iron. A voice that lead. Furihata take the orders involuntarily without even realizing.

 

"I supposed you're not here for a simple family reunion. I could say the same in my case. I admit I doubted you as an impostor at first, but seeing you in person proved my hypothesis otherwise..."

 

The way he speaks is so professional and businesslike and Furihata could feel his brain halting its processes with all those high leveled vocabularies incorporated in the speech. But Akashi-sama continued nonetheless.

 

"I will guarantee you petition as long as you confirmed mine..."

 

Way too forward. No beating around the bush. Furihata contemplated the price of this trade. Akashi-sama could pay all the bills taxed by the hospital and all the debts he committed without having as much as a scratch... The senior beckoned him to eat, he indeed ate.

 

He was halfway through his dish and about to ask for another when Akashi-sama dropped the bomb.

 

"Be my heir."

 

Furihata may or may not throw up his food in front of the head of one of the largest conglomerate.

 

...

 

The sky was grey and murky, crystal goblet-like droplets descended from it like tiny spears of opalescent blade. The dark weather perfectly describes the mood of one Akashi Seijuurou, pacing calmly in his own personal study room like he wasn't juicing his mind of some ploy to plot someone's murder.

 

'Seijuurou, you're one impeccable child that comes only once in a century. You and only you deserves nothing but the greatest of quality.'

 

His late mother's words echoed through the innards of his brain like a golden piece of melody, heavenly and assuring. Because after all, she is correct. Every fine thing in this world must belong to his possession. His and only his. He will never yield, he'll make sure that he'll never live the rest of his life sharing all those fine things that he owns with that filthy, abominable rat from an even dirtier slums. Never.

 

The path he is striding was only his. Within his prowess, he'll do his best to destroy him. That heir. It's not like Akashi wasn't used to playing mind games, oh heck he's an expert when it comes to it. He'll play with his victim first, entertaining him until he reached his heart's content, and when he's over the hilt of his desires, Akashi would strike him out of blue and unleash his smoldering wrath like an uncontrollable volcano explosion.

 

He'll be the prey and Akashi... Akashi will always be the predator of their little, cute chase--

 

"S-Seijuurou-sama?"

 

Akashi became too engrossed with his sadistic fantasies and vengeful schemes that he barely noticed the fidgeting scullery maid that timidly entered his room. Take note, without his permission. He might have acted a little bit more casual to her than anyone else, but that's because she's still a newbie here (the one who replaced the expelled maid that made his bed wrong) and still inexperienced from the emperor-like attitude the redhead is having.

 

"What?"

 

The redhead snapped, losing his stupor in a split of second. He quickly decompensated by flashing a dazzling smile that could charm even the most strict and grumpy professor out of his wits.

 

He's not too dumb to realize that the girl likes him and hopes to have her feelings reciprocated. But she is dreaming way too far. True, he might enjoy basking from the attention showered upon him in silver buckets but getting as far as engaging a commitment with a trash like her? Too bad he can't give that.

 

"Oh. I mean, what would you like to inform me?"

 

Seeing the lovestruck expression and the pink furious blush decorating the expanse of her fair cheeks, Akashi knew that he had quickly overwrote that sudden, brief moment that he acted out of his usual facade. Any ordinary people might not notice it, except maybe from someone with the bluest eyes he'd ever seen.

 

Those eyes that captured him in a swirling mist of mystery and tenderness.

 

"Umm... ano... S-Seiruko-sama wants to have you knowledgeable that the heir he's mentioning you these past few days will be expected to come this... a-ahh S-Seijuurou-sama?"

 

Ah. That bastard again. How lovely. How courageous of him to dare set foot on a territory clearly out of his league, he surely dreams too high. Akashi will let him realize who's the real boss here. Imagining him walking through the halls of Akashi's house with all those gross clinging on the foot of his shoes and the disgusting, polluted air draping like cloth on his even more disgusting skin made the redhead's insides cringe.

 

"I am aware of it, if that's all. You are dismissed."

 

Keeping the serene, polite and ever so gentlemanly smile securely plastered on his face, he courteously ushered the madly blushing maid outside his own personal space. He still hadn't reprimanded her for sneaking inside his room without permission though, -even if the door is open, she still needs to affirm her entry to the young master - so she must consider herself lucky because Akashi is still busy composing himself to face the upcoming catastrophe of his life.

 

The one who will step right in front his threshold.

 

He smirked to himself. Oooohh. How exciting would this game may be.

 

...

 

"Oba-chan? I have some bread here. Would you like some?"

 

"Yes, if you may dear."

 

A figure bearing brownish locks and sun kissed skin scrambled inside the cramped hospital room as he fished through his tattered - yet well-kept and very much loved - backpack for slices of baked dough he just bought from the nearest and cheapest bakeshop. The senior Akashi gives him the first settlement of their deal in the form of a 'too large' amount of money, in cash, to guarantee his silence of their private meeting.

 

And although Furihata wants to insist that his loyalty and freedom of speech cannot be manipulated by a wad of bills, his grandmother needs a new batch of syringe and decstrose to ensure recovery, so he can't complain either.

 

His grandma's wrinkled face twitched to form a cheery smile, a beautiful, genuine one. Something that can't be painted easily even by a fine art virtuoso without critically choosing the right hue to mix in his palette. Something that could illuminate the whole room so blindingly like mega-watt fluorescent lights.

 

Oba-chan was once a stunning, gorgeous lady... and still is (dry skin aside). Small irises which were inherited by his mother and also by him, smooth raven hair like polished ebony wood and simple, elegant Japanese beauty.

 

Guilt climbed like vile, poisoned vine as he watched his beaming grandparent ate with much gusto. He swore in front of his father to never tell a soul about the concocted agreement. It's simple. The master promised him to bring his grandma to a private hospital as soon as he decided to take the throne of being the shadow heir.

 

'Time is running out.' He remembered his father's words like a judge denouncing a death sentence. 'Many potential candidates are lining up to snatch that position.'

 

So much pressure. Like a victim whose only choice is to be a criminal himself or have his whole family sabotaged. Like his situation wasn't as similar as that.

 

He's just fourteen for Pete's sake, still having difficulties solving polynomials and tangents. Imagine him joining a world of business with more complicated loops and statistics to study, not to mention dealing with people maybe twice his age that would kill just to be in his position.

 

He's so whipped.

 

'If you've come to a plausible conclusion, dial this call card. A car should have you and your grandmother brought to the hospital of prescription. I should also have you proceeded in my residence.'

 

Like so whipped he kind of want to run himself into something. Maybe a wall or a truck.

 

'Remember. The moment you dial, I will be assuming that you've agreed to my condition.'

 

That's the kind of problem we have on business people. Either they win or Furihata lose. Badasses.

 

He snapped back to reality as the machine visualizing the vital statistics of the patient started beating rapidly. His grandma, who was just fine a second ago, is now breathing heavily, her body spasming. It takes him almost five minutes to fetch a nurse to assist the situation, only to know that the device needed to aid his grandma was under maintenance and the antibiotic required to cease the convulsing was out of supply.

 

"Crap. Crap. Crap."

 

Masaomi-sama's gaze was torn from his cappuccino (with two marshmallows) as it reverted to the ringing telephone at the other side of his (messy with gigantic stack of papers from his devious fellow main stockholders who did nothing but to torture him until he gave up) business table.

 

He answered the phone, brows twitching as he heard the shrieking and squeaking noise from the other side of the phone (he thought for a second that maybe the aliens have made a wrong call on his number but that was quickly disposed).

 

Oh. So Furihata agreed. Another thing to boast just to piss off the sharks of his company. Because in this way, he will have no trouble keeping the security of the company to only the ones of his heritage (legitimate or not. Because he will take drastic measures for the future of the company and its people).

 

...

 

Opulent furnishings, sophisticated chandeliers, lots of shining, shimmering stuffs that were no doubt, expensive. Furihata truly had trouble keeping his jaw clasp at the ventral end of his skull as he walked pass through the gigantic halls with high arched ceilings. The mansion depicted elegance, a place certain pauper like him didn't deserve.

 

A butler beckon him to follow, walking in long, swift strides that Furihata has to jog just to catch up, his dirtied sneakers (one bought at a secondhand shop years ago) leaving embarrassing smudges over the tiled floor as he fasten his pace.

 

A moment ago, he was a frantic mess as he subconsciously watched the view of the skyscrapers and modern buildings whirred from the window (like blurred mosaic artwork, unidentifiable if casted only by a fleeting glance) as they approached the city, all the while cradling the only family he have in his arms.

 

He never reached the most civilized part of the city yet, being the provincial boy that he is, this opportunity might be one of his wildest dreams. He promised himself one day that the moment he first came to witness these economically-styled infrastructures and luxurious buildings, he would stop for a while and memorize the whole city. But that goal could still wait.

 

Once the vehicle halted into a complete stop, Furihata was overwhelmed by the number of nurse that swarmed to them instantly, alert and ready. He was vaguely reminded by a flock of white swan.

 

As he watched them aid the old lady to the private room, Furihata found himself, once again, clamped between two black men.

 

The head of the household is still yet to return, so he instructed Furihata to proceed to the destination anyway and meet his other half-sibling instead (far better and literate than him perhaps).

 

He kept his attitude docile until they reached a large mahogany door, which was of course, voguish and sophisticated.

 

"The young master is expecting you, sir."

 

The butler announced voice devoid of concern whatsoever. After making sure that Furihata wouldn't puke or faint before meeting the son, the true heir, of the company owner, he opened the door for the other heir to enter.

 

Furihata was half-expecting that he would also look like the senior: brown locks, unusual charisma, etcetera. But what he saw managed to throw all of his expectation to the black hole.

 

Because holy shit, he looks nothing like THEIR father (though he's still highly reluctant to admit that this seemingly inhuman creature and him, a simple, TOO simple human being have came from one man). Red. Scarlet. Blood. And even more blood-like hue highlighting the pale expanse of his skin.

 

The complexion of his hair settled in between dark pink and ruby. His eyes were passive yet very dangerous. Those orbs of pooling rum scans through sets of complicated note passages as he played the piece in silent harmony, not missing a beat.

 

Unlike he's father, he adverts everyone's attention to him in a second. Everything on him is peculiar yet very fascinating. He moves eloquently and gracefully like his father (their father) but unlike the older Akashi, he snatches your focus so stealthily without so much effort. He's so... so...

 

"Akashi Seijuurou-sama, he has arrived."

 

His adviser, who was standing beside the doorstep walked towards him, quietly, shoes clinking in stable rhythms, notifying the presence of Furihata.

 

Akashi played the piano faultlessly, his pale, delicate fingers gliding on the keys with precision and grace. He refused to acknowledge the anxious boy standing right behind him, staining the pristine, tiled floors with his cheap, worn out shoes.

 

"So you're the bastard son of my father? You're here to act like some protagonist and exploit his riches are you? How pathetic."

 

He snapped, still not looking away from the musical notes perched on the top of the instrument.

 

And damn, his words were smoldering it will surely burn a gaping hole on Furihata's wellbeing. The way he speaks, the way he moves. Furihata is pretty sure that there was a vast coast of wisdom and knowledge that lies beneath his half-sibling's deceptively youthful face. They're just of the same age and yet you could identify the wide distance of ability between them just by looking.

 

To say that Kouki is terrified was a very terrible understatement. Hell, he felt like an idiot adventurer poking inside a lion's den to see if the lions would actually pound and shred him to pieces. He's almost close to pissing his pants when thankfully - -

 

"Please don't act way too crass for this poor thing, young master. Your father would surely be disappointed."

 

The music stops. Akashi and his satanic eyes refocused themselves slowly, scaldingly and torturously towards Furihata. The peaceful smile in his rosy lips is tender and gentle. It must be the blood relationship thingy, because Furihata's instincts are telling him to be horrified instead. And horrified he became.

 

Akashi stalked towards him, his steps measured and deliberately calculated.

 

"Oh, I forgot... It's time to act like the perfect son again. Though I wanted to show the nicer part of me to someone who deserves it, I think I might give you another chance to prove yourself."

 

Furihata has the feeling that Akashi is mocking him. He's releasing words like the mellow flow of a very sweet honey and yet Furihata felt like (at least, the bloody thingy inside him said so) Akashi almost wanted to spat those statements in front of him like a seething snake.

 

He vaguely registered the pair of pale, firm hands enveloping him in a gentle embrace. And that is when he realized that Akashi... is hugging him. He is supposed to feel warmth, to feel gratefulness for being accepted easily by the heir himself, but why... Why did he felt like a prey caged by an unpredictable predator?

 

"Welcome to our family, Furihata-kun. I hope we get well."

 

He whimpered as he felt Akashi's nose grace at the line on his shoulder blades up to the shell of his ear. It gives him the worst kind of chills, he's gonna pee his pants for real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I'm very sad to admit this but... KnB is not mine...
> 
> Please drop kudos, comments, suggestions... anything...
> 
> I love you all~ minna!


	4. The Long Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens if the long lost siblings share a room for the first time...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good day, minna-saaaaan!
> 
> Due to some unperceived errors, we decided to alter our plotline to suit the preferences of all our readers...
> 
> Gomen for the wait, minna-saaaaan! Please enjoy and have a good day. :)

"I've contacted one of the manservants of mine to claim your possessions at your current residence, on your behalf of course. He will be returning with the least of your necessary properties in a short while."

 

Furihata listened, sidetracked, as the head of the household talked in authorities, stiff and yet in a strange fatherly manner. But what do you expect from a house full of prestige and discipline? Of course they would live up to it, obviously.

 

The corner of his eyes found a just as stern-looking Akashi Seijuurou, his unofficial step brother. He is standing beside Furihata, looking no more than a subordinate soldier taking orders attentively from his superior. Again, with that disciplined and well-respected family whatnot. The brunette realized that he looked out of place from the well-sculpted framework of the strict father-and-son meeting. A mere wild flower amidst fine cultured roses.

 

He vaguely wonders if he would get used to this as well. All formal and crap in front of your own family. Normally, children wouldn't be obliged to walk in front of their father's office, perform a well-practiced bow, give a proper, traditional greeting and proceed to recite what you did and what you learned for the day. But then again, he grew up away from them and their customary routine, so it's justifiable.

 

"Furihata-san, is something the matter?"

 

The smooth, silken voice of Akashi Masaomi brought Furihata back to Earth.

 

"H-Ha?"

 

Came a dumb reply.

 

"Culture shock. Perhaps? Considering that you live a life in the slumbers, a place of polar opposite to the place you'll be living now."

 

The younger Akashi suggested coolly, slicing into their conversation carelessly like a knife would in butter. The sarcasm in his voice was promptly hinted. Apparently, Masaomi wasn't amused.

"Though I like how deep your sharp tongue could cut through the weak points of our enemies in front of some important audiences, Seijuurou, I will not permit you to execute such skill on your own step brother. Besides, he's new to this environment and the responsibility of standing as his role model lies on your shoulders."

 

Akashi threw him one (not so secret) vengeful glance before turning his attention to the senior. Furihata didn't know what to do with this information.

 

"Yes father, I apologize for my abrupt fluctuation. I shall never repeat my actions again."

 

"As a growing teenager, I understand the phase you're going through. The transition happening in your body is controlled beyond our means. But you're an Akashi, once is enough, I will not allow anymore actions that will fail our name again."

 

"Yes father, I'll take your advice wholeheartedly. Furihata-kun, I sincerely ask for your forgiveness, I apologize."

 

In a second, Furihata came face to face with a bowing Akashi, the redhead's body gracefully angling into a deep curve. The brown head had absolutely no idea of what to do. Just what the fu--

 

"E-Eh? Akashi-san! Y-You don't have to undergo such extent to..."

 

Furihata trailed as he crouched down frantically, pulling Akashi upright awkwardly. And yet Akashi remained stubbornly, fighting against the strength of the other. Amidst their wrestling, Akashi harshly muttered through gritted teeth: "If you don't want me to stay like this forever then forgive me and get over it already...!"

 

"But-But y-you wouldn't have to bow that deep, I'm not really that--"

 

"It's what you call etiquette, you imbecile..." Akashi seethed, forcing himself to remain bowing.

 

"O-Okay! I forgive you! St-Stop bowing already, it's embarrassing...!"

 

A cough made them realize that they forgot to acknowledge the other presence all the while. Furihata's ears were blazing in red as he listened to the rest of his father's discussion. Akashi's were not much that different.

 

"I see that you've already made yourself comfortable with each other during my absence a while ago. Though I deemed your much needed bonding understandable, I prefer you two to listen carefully as I lay the house rules. I will provide enough time for you to catch up with each other, Furihata will spend the night on your chambers temporarily anyway."

 

"May I beg your pardon, sir?" Akashi's left eye twitched, indignantly. The redhead has enough closure with the imbecilic creature standing stupidly out of picture beside him. If stupidity is indeed contagious, then he must reduce his exposure in the other's vicinity.

 

"You heard me right, Seijuurou. Since Furihata-san's new bedroom is under modification, you have to share yours with him. Surely, with the size of your room, another person can accommodate right?"

 

"Father--"

 

"Hush now, Seijuurou. I'm going to announce the rules now."

 

"But, Father, I--"

 

"The house rules, Seijuurou. The previous issue had already been attended, there's no need to bring it up again. Now, let's proceed."

 

Akashi resisted the urge to give in and pout indignantly in front of his father. Because an Akashi is not childish. Furihata Kouki will just stay in his room. No harm will happen... yet. Except he will suffer watching the brown head touch his things, envelope himself in Akashi's own blankets, pad the same floor as the red head--

 

This is going to be a long night.

 

...

 

Timid bare feet ambled hesitantly through the indefectible ceramic floors of younger Akashi's sleeping chamber. His newly proclaimed step-sibling was rendered dumbstruck as his warm, chocolate eyes curiously wandered the expanse of the redhead's bedroom. For once, Akashi compared how the way it glints with enthusiasm to how his father's will way back ago. He quickly dismissed those senseless thoughts immediately.

 

"W-Wow, Akashi-kun, your room sure looks incredibly amazing!"

 

Akashi didn't know how many times for the record of the day did he restrained himself from rolling his eyes at the utterly petty and considerably irrelevant things the brunette would spurt out of the blue. Of course it is. 'Amazing' as he says. Anything for the prodigal heir of the Akashi group. He suppressed yet a cringe again as his eyes did a once over at Furihata's exterior.

 

The bastard is wearing Akashi Seijuurou's clothes.

 

'Oh will you look at that? Isn't it cute having your things shared to your brother for the first time?' The silken voice of his father reverberated throughout the hallway like a nightmare haunting to possess your soul. Akashi wanted to protest and raise his point that he didn't considered this act as something - god forbid - cute and cooing worthy. In fact he assumed to be performing a brave type of chivalry, he deserve a medal being able to stand the situation with patience and dignity.

 

There's still no way he's gonna share his bed. Ever.

 

And as if mocking him to full intensity, he found himself agitated and almost offended at the clothes hanging snuggly at the other's frame. His clothes. How daring. The walking earthworm didn't even have the shame to decline and convince his father that he could sleep at the other rooms instead. Yet with him witnessing the slight lit of his father's eyes and the subtle fondness on his tone as he rattle on and on about sibling things and catching up, he found his plan a cruel deed to do.

 

He can't simply end the satisfaction and peacefulness in Masaomi's aged face just like that. Not when it is the first time seeing him contented and at ease since that day. One of those days who shattered the indifference surrounding him and completely destroyed the facade he used to wear almost every day in front of many people of great variation.

 

"... There's a futon at one of the cabinets. Help yourself, Furihata-kun."

 

Clad with his night clothes as well, Akashi gracefully placed himself on the king-sized, partially-Mediterranean and partially-modernized styled bed. The ruby drapes alongside the furniture flows until it reached the floor. Furihata almost had himself slipped from the unusually long garment. The brown head tentatively went to the specified direction.

 

Yet there is one problem.

 

"A... Ano..."

 

"What is it Furihata-kun..."

 

There's another minute of silence before an answer comes. "Th-the... The futon... it's kind of... heavy."

The redhead hummed indifferently. "Uh-uh. And please explain why it has to be my topic of concern?"

 

The brunette blushed. It might have been cute if he wasn't maddening the shit out of Akashi Seijuurou-- wait, he didn't just say cute... "A-Ano... C-Could you-- uh... help me?" Furihata mumbled, tucking a stray hair back at his ear, a nervous habit.

 

"Are you ordering me?"

 

"No!" The brunette instantly squeaked. "Nu-uh! Am not! I... I'm just asking for... help." He continued, bringing his hand to tuck another lock on his ear yet again.

 

Akashi sighed. "Really, this child is hopeless." The redhead quietly muttered, unaware that it had inevitably reached his sibling's ear and had the nuthead expressed his sulking in a full blown pout.

 

"You're a kid too, Akashi-kun."

 

Another sigh. "Just... call a servant and get this rubbish all over with."

 

"B-But! I don't want ordering others, Akashi-kun! They may be your manservants but they're not mine--"

 

"You're a hypocrite are you?" Akashi can't help but chuckle at the intellectual rationality of the other. Because seriously this little brown head never cease capturing his amusement. "You are demanding a chore for the master of the household and yet you refuse the slaves to execute the order instead?"

 

Furihata's brows creased at the prompt mention of 'slaves' in Akashi's statement, yet he dismissed his inquiry in favor of emphasizing his point. "I-It's not like that okay? I-I just wanted you to help me since this task will just be easy if we work together--"

 

"You're right. But what's the purpose of the servants then? My father hired them to do the home chores for me. And you, a newbie who has yet to prove his worth, had no right to order me around."

 

This time, it is Furihata who released a sigh, a harsh one. "W-Why are we almost having a debate over a futon anyway? You... You could just let me share with your bed instead."

 

"... Excuse me? This is MY BED. And the only one who could sleep on it other than me is the one I'll spend eternity with." A fleeting image of a cyan haired boy lying next to him looking all too sexy with his post-sex bed hair came passed the redhead's mind.

The brown head twitched. 'Yeah, fuckin' deep.' He might be a little scared and awestruck about the previous 'I am perfect, worship me' Akashi that he had encountered before. But now, he knows that this is his true form. A spoiled brat.

 

"Fine! I'll go get the futon then, asshole!"

 

Asshole.

 

Asshole.

 

Asshole.

 

The room's temperature dropped. Furihata could feel the chill drilling inside his spine.

 

Asshole.

 

Asshole.

 

Ass--

 

"What did you say again, Furihata-kun?"

 

"U-Um... That I'll go get the gigantic futon alone because I am superman and I could... uh-- carry it by myself?"

 

"No, Furihata-kun. The other thing that you said, could you please repeat it?"

 

Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fucking fuck. Akashi is really fucking scary. He may almost make Furihata piss on his pants but... oh shit--

 

"Urgggggh!!! Enough okay! Enough already with your mind-fucking-games. You really scared the living shit out of me okay?! If that's what you're proving - But we're just talking about futons here! If you don't want to help me then I'll do it myself."

 

Oh what fucking fuck. Did he just badmouthed Akashi Seijuurou over a futon? He's seriously finding a short route to end his life.

 

"What am I trying to impose was--"

 

"I know! You're the one who got the right side, right? I'm sorry for questioning your rule Your Highness, I'm going to fetch the futon myself."

 

Akashi stared as Furihata stomped towards the cabinets, pulling one of the gigantic and very much heavy mattresses a little too harshly and trying to act less desperate while doing so. His frame is lanky and less muscled, the young master had observed, making the other looked pathetic against a humungous futon thrice his size.

 

He exhaled a long suffering breath while vaguely listening to the occasional rantings of the nuthead ("Uhhh, he's heartless. Can't he be a little more human?”, "If I don't pull this crap out of this ^*&@#!$ then I'll sleep on the floor." , "Seriously, can't he spare me some mercy?").

 

"Fine, I'll let you have my bed shared. And no, don't look too happy, this will just be once... And don't tell anyone about this."

 

Uhhh. This will be a very long night.

 

...

 

"Umm... Ano..."

 

Akashi harshly tossed himself at another angle and ignored the irritating inquiry of the other teen at the other side of the bed, a gigantic pile of pillows away. He's trying to sleep, goddamnit.

 

"Akashi-kun? The pillows seemed to take more space in bed than we do... Can I please take some of them away so we could sleep in ease?"

 

Furihata said, emphasizing the 'please' just in case. For a short duration of time he'd known his step-sibling, he found out that he's such an etiquette freak.

 

...

 

"You're supposed to wear your night cap."

 

"No-- That's not it. Your night cap is worn this way."

 

"Seriously, are you living in a rock? You're not supposed to make a mess with your bed sheets this much." Then how in the glory of chicken's poop could he sleep without making creases in the bed? He's not a statue, bloody hell.

 

...

 

'But I don't want to sleep near you, who know what kind of germs you've gathered while you're on your way here.' Akashi inwardly groaned. But he's not the immature one here.

 

"Akashi-kun, could you please stop acting as if we were in front of the kings and queens who were obliged to perform the most fine of manners? We're going to sleep here and I think we could probably throw our high class etiquette at the corner and have a good night sleep?"

 

His refined manners were being insulted? How daring.

 

"Well, excuse you, you abominable street rat, but I am raised to perform the perfect act amongst every situation, I am born to maintain a prestige built by blood and sweat by my ancestors. So you can't blame me being like this because respect, I believe, is carried even you're in bed - even you're asleep - even until you've woken up the next day."

 

Furihata was shell-shocked at the sudden outburst. He peered at Akashi's back as the redhead's structure subtly stiffened. The brunette smiled sadly, he can't blame him indeed.

 

"I guess that's the downside of being highly respected, huh? Well... I can't stand a chance there."

 

"Of course you can't Mr. Furihata-" Akashi turned to face the other and berate him properly. "Afterall I am Akashi Seijuurou, and I--" He stopped when he noticed that Furihata was already sound asleep.

 

"I guess, I'll chastise you tommorrow." The redhead muttered as he soon drifted to his own slumber, a familiar darkness engulfing him.

 

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> f there are any more complains and critics of the plot and the theme, please say so and we'll attend to it immediately...
> 
> Please don't be afraid to drop comments, okay? Okay.
> 
> :3


	5. Waking Up: The Akashis' Version

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The unidentified body moves slightly to carve itself more to the tresses of the redhead's lean figure. Something tickling touched his nose, ah, it must be the expensive and smooth fur sophisticatedly sewn into the soft object, he deduced. Its scent may not be that special, but the mix of fresh grass, wild wood and wet soil made it smell like home.
> 
>  
> 
> Suddenly, he find the overwhelming urge to snuggle himself closer. And snuggle he did. He wrapped his arms around the warm thing and he shifted himself closer."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been forever since I updated something didn't I?
> 
>  
> 
> Waaaaaaaa!! Gomen, minna-saaaaaan!!
> 
>  
> 
> School is definitely having fun torturing me and my ass, fufu..
> 
>  
> 
> But thankfully, Sai-chan, my co-author/editor, is here to understand and support me! Thank you sooooo much!!
> 
>  
> 
> So... haha... without much further ado...

When Akashi woke up from his slumber, he didn't felt shivery. Usually, when he sleep late at night, spent and drained from hours and hours of lessons and school works, he would always wake up at an empty bed, already cold from the opened air conditioner.

 

It's not like it bothers him, an Akashi was raised to acclimate in any type of situation after all.

 

But this seemed to be a different story. Did his father finally bought him some large, warmth inducing pillow to satisfy his uncomfort?

 

The unidentified body moves slightly to carve itself more to the tresses of the redhead's lean figure. Something tickling touched his nose, ah, it must be the expensive and smooth fur sophisticatedly sewn into the soft object, he deduced. Its scent may not be that special, but the mix of fresh grass, wild wood and wet soil made it smell like home.

 

Suddenly, he find the overwhelming urge to snuggle himself closer. And snuggle he did. He wrapped his arms around the warm thing and he shifted himself closer.

 

His nose caressed something smooth. He pressed his face further and sniffed the inviting aroma, tightening his strong grip on said specimen. This is the best pillow he'd ever had, he'll make sure to send his gratitude and everlasting sentiments to his father by instance--

 

Someone yawned. The object underneath him was twisting and turning. The fabric beneath his fingers escaped as it rode up, leaving a vast expanse of smooth skin for his hands to fondle.

 

Skin.

 

Ruby eyes snapped open immediately and in seconds Akashi was already wide awake. His brain operates its switches sanely once again as it started recalling and reviewing his memories. Events from yesterday had started sinking back to his mind. From his disagreement of the new resident of the manor to his unwillingly given permission to share his bed to some dirty pauper.

 

That's when he horrifyingly realized. He almost squawked when his eyes finally landed on the person in front of him.

 

Almost. Squawked. The mighty Akashi almost did something as embarrassing as squawking.

 

The fur-like substance snugged on his nose was not a carefully knitted skin of a well-bred animal but a chestnut, mousy (soft, it's otherwise soft anyway but that's not the point) hair which might not have taken a bath a day or two days prior. He internally shivered even only at the thought itself.

 

The scent that was wafted across his senses was not from an opulent, exclusively prepared perfume, it is from the human sly enough to remove the barricading pillows and sleep beside him instead, despite the upcoming wrath he'll be facing by morning. He took back what he said a while ago, it smelled like garbage itself (If the garbage smells like home, then it is).

 

There lies Furihata Kouki. In his bed. His upper pajamas, which was a little larger than his size since it's from Akashi, sagged a little to reveal a part of his slender, tanned shoulders. The brunette remained oblivious from the hawk-like monitoring of his step sibling.

 

He turned his body so as to face Akashi. The redhead's eyes trailed almost hungrily as the clothing revealed more and more of his brother's bare body as he stretches like a cat. You can't blame him, he's a healthy teenage boy with raging hormones after all.

 

He didn't know his brother looked like a porn star when he is sleeping. (His soul almost burned upon realizing what he's thinking, and he dismissed the whole idea away as soon as it enters his youthful imagination.)

 

His orbs dared to venture lower and lower until to the part where he is supposed to see the lower part of his pajamas. Except, what he see instead - he prevents himself from hyperventilating - is a pair of long, sun kissed legs. Just, where the hell did his pants go?

 

He could feel something inside of him - a beast maybe - snapped and despite the chilling air of his conditioner, he found his palms and forehead sweating for no reason.

 

Carefully, with the most intense caution he could ever muster, he dislodged himself from the mess of tangled limbs. He's never been so relieved when the escaping he's doing is almost nearing to success--

 

"Goo... Good... Good mooooaaaaaaarrrrninggg~"

 

The brunette stirred and proved Akashi's effort futile when he slotted himself once again beneath Akashi's body. The first legal Akashi heir shivered, either from the utter grossness of it all or maybe from something else he can't ever admit.

 

When the nuthead have stirred enough to register the surroundings around him and the situation in hand, his brown eyes widened and instinctively pushed the other out of bed.

 

"Y-You... Y-You perverted child molester!"

 

Akashi is often mature. But his childishness this time, reigned over. Instead of keeping himself quiet like any adult would be, he said instead,

 

"You're a child too, you imbecile! And don't ever accuse me such shameful deed! You, after all, are the one who fondled me when I was asleep some time ago."

 

Furihata's fair cheeks were now decorated with a violent blush. "I-I did?"

 

Akashi stared at him amusedly and enjoyed how the slightly smaller one fidgeted under his thorough gaze. "Yes, you did. He said without any sound of guilt.

 

I-It's not like the brown head likes snuggling and hugging strangers once asleep! It's just that... he grew up alone and lonely. Sure his grandma loves him and all but she's too old to play with him anymore. She's already skin and bones that a mere simple hug might crush her entirely. Besides, she's too busy sewing hats and clothes to provide them enough pennies for a meal--

 

"Pardon... Pardon me?"

 

Oops. He didn't tend to say it out loud.

 

"I-I said... I'm sorry! I didn't know what I'm doing when I'm fast asleep and-- and--"

 

"Would you please shut up and find your pants first?"

 

Akashis gaze focused firmly on his sibling's face. Because, who knows what might happen if his eyes dared to travel further below...

 

Something ticked inside Furihata's head and in a moment, he's been bouncing around in a frantic hunt of finding the lost piece of fabric.

 

"My... My pants! Where did it go?! Y-You, you didn't--"

 

"For the last time Furihata, I am not responsible for the deeds you've done during your subconscious state."

 

"A-Are you saying that I'm crazy or something?!"

 

"Just...Just go find your pants."

 

...

 

"Good morning."

 

Masaomi greeted, already having a breakfast in all his graceful tuxedo and brushed up hair glory.

 

After a minute of eternal struggling, both of them had finally managed to find the missing article of clothing. It's just beside the vidoir and Akashi picked it up with the end of his thumb and forefinger (as if the cloth was contaminated with Furi-germs or something).

 

In a moment, a maid knocked in. She's a young lady who went to work just a week ago. Her face almost exploded from too much accumulated blood upon seeing what lies beyond the door. Akashi could never forget her expression when her sight lingered from the lower garment he's holding between his fingers and the exposed lower portion of Furihata's body.

 

"Good morning, Otou-san." Performing a well-practiced bow, Akashi politely greeted his father back.

 

But then, he noticed that the teen beside him is still stalling, clueless of what to do. The room remained silent, except for the rhythmic clanking of fork and spoon.

 

"You should bow too, fool." Akashi harshly whispered, retaining his position. The other's mouth remained agape and it's pissing Akashi off.

 

"Ano... Ah--"

 

"You don't have to, Furihata-san. You're new here so it's deemed understandable if you don't know what to do at the first."

 

Masaomi's eyes diverted to gaze at the orbs almost identical to his.

 

"I'll let this pass, but next time, learn how to pay respect, you understand?" There's a slight softness on his tone that Akashi had never heard directed to him since that day. And it irritates him more than he expected.

 

"Yes sir. I... I'm sorry."

 

Masaomi internally grimaced at the distant courteousness of his brownhead son. So instead, out of the blue, he said, "You could as well as address me as your father."

 

"S-Sir?" Furihatas eyes widen.

  

 "I am aware of the difficulties adjusting into a whole new environment, Furihata-san. But if the time comes that you'll acknowledge me as your biological parent, please don't be afraid to do so."

 

"H-Hai, sir."

 

Meanwhile, the other son watched the whole scene quietly. Pain crawled back to Akashi's heart like tiny, prickly needles. He'd never been treated like this by his own father. Ever since... Ever since the death of his mother.

 

Or maybe even before that.

 

...

 

"Ahh... Ehhh..."

 

Ladies and gentleman. This is Furihata Kouki. Before him stands the mightiest facade of Teiko Middle School, intimidating every fiber of his being to wrecked nerves and frozen bones. His expression was aghast and his feet were permanently planted on the ground.

 

His stomach is protesting out of the sudden and he could feel the call of nature mocking him on his anus. His stepbrother, however, seemed to be enjoying his sorrows by watching his pathetic stupor with shameless and unconcealed amusement just beside him. Their driver, another man in black that scared Furi to bits, was sent back to find a parking space at the designated lot nearby by no other than the redhead himself.

 

It's Saturday. Akashi's father (their father, but Furihata still needs more time to digest that fact) adjured to enroll the brunette to the academy where his sibling is also schooling. Obviously, Akashi tried to put up an argument with that, but since no one could deny the rule of the head of the household, they have no choice but to oblige.

 

"Hey, chihuahua."

 

"Chi-Chihuahua?!"

 

Akashi chuckled breathlessly at the way Furihata could barely squeak the word in between his terrified musings. Furihata, on the other hand, have the overwhelming urge to walk right in front of him and strangle that bastard with his own, bare hands.

 

Because during his stay on the mansion, he realized how wrong he is when he thought that the other was the most perfect, flawless, graceful, god-like human being who ever existed -- no, just no, in fact Akashi is just a sharp-tongued, spoiled brat. Period.

 

"If you covet to remain here any longer, then I shall take my leave. Please excuse me." And he is off with his oh so graceful steps.

 

'And you're a jerk too, excuse you very much.' Furihata said to himself as he desperately tried matching the other's elegant strides.

 

"By the way, Akashi-san."

 

"Yes, what is it, step-brother?"

 

Furihata missed a step and almost toppled himself to the ground. Just great, thanks to you too, step-brother. The tips of his ears were gradually growing pink.

 

"Could you stop saying that?! It's humiliating!" He harshly whispered.

 

As they passed through several humungous buildings, Furihata could discern how sophisticated an elite school was. Unlike his old school's rusty, beaten gates, Teiko had metal ones. They even have this techy thing where the students would swipe their cards to allow them to enter. There were a lot of establishments. There's a gym (not just one for everything but one for each type of sport), a laboratory, a guess lodge for students regarded with high recognition, a large, highly maintained cafeteria, etc. etc.

 

"Are you done swooning? I apologize but we really need to enroll you right now, Furihata-kun, so you can go to school in Monday and so I could go home already."

 

"I'm going to school here?!" Furihata exclaimed as he clutched the other's collar. Akashi glared at his hands icily.

 

"Yes you will, if you haven't heard what Father announced a while ago, this is also a part of the contract. Now, would you mind getting your hideous hands off me?"

 

Oh... How could he forget? After all the happenings, he found himself still unable to digest anything about the changes. His peaceful, peasant-like (the word creditted to Akashi himself) life is now turbulent and chaotic. He slowly retracted his hands from his step-sibling.

 

Akashi briefly took his handkerchief and made a gesture of wiping some dirt off his collar like it's something deadly and contagious. If Furihata could just smack that smug face of the jerk who (unfortunately) is his brother.

 

"I'm going to the head office right now. If you wish to go sightseeing, then you're free to take a walk around as long as you don't wander a little too far."

 

"Please, I'm not a child." Furihata almost rolled his eyes.

 

"Pardon?"

 

"Nothing, Akashi-kun. I said I will... you know, wander around as you put it."

 

Akashi addressed him with a slight frown before dismissing him altogether and leaving. Him. Alone. By himself.

 

"And to think that he is the one who dragged me here!"

 

His face was contorted into a petulant pout and his arms were crossed, he could feel his blood pressure rising and reaching its maximum.

 

"He's just seeking excuse to get me off his hair! That asshole! Aaaaargh!"

 

A cough interrupted his melodramatic, furious monologue.

 

"Excuse me. But would you mind lowering your voice? It's quite disturbing." A voice muttered behind him, deep and rich. Furihata turned around and he was rendered breathless with the sight beheld in front of him.

 

Green.

 

Just like the trees that surrounding the rocky path towards his old school, dancing through the wind with their leaves like emeralds beneath the gleam of sunlight.

 

Green locks framed a pale, youthful face of a young gentleman. Orbs that resembled the leaves he saw on his former neighborhood stared back at him with clear annoyance. Those eyes were rimmed with a set of glasses that made them even more glistening upon exposure to light.

 

But it didn't end with just that. It seemed that he stole all the possible beauty of every eye for his own. They were bordered with thick, dark lashes any girl would be jealous of. His skin is fair and he is wearing a checkered black-and-white polo which emphasized his skin color even more.

 

And now, he's already gaping again and it's really pathetic. Just how many extraordinary people had he met these days? Who the hell even have a green out of anything as a hair color? Or was he just dreaming? How could a human be this gorgeous anyway? Seriously, are ordinary people like him were actually this scarce in this wealthy world?

 

The guy went in front of him with precise grace.

 

(And now he's beginning to think that every rich and gorgeous people - except Akashi, he's not THAT gorgeous, no, of course not - were required to have that kind of specific elegance – you know, where you could make people like Furihata swoon on your shoes by just merely walking? Oh yes, that.)

 

"You're not from here, who are you then?"

 

"Ah..."

 

If somebody like him kept on appearing on Furihata's life, he might most likely speak in syllables right now. The greenette kept advancing, his height doing a very good job towering over the poor and pitiful Furihata Kouki.

 

That is until he noticed something peculiar the other is holding...

 

"I-Is that... a SpongeBob stuff toy?" Furihata tried to stifle himself from laughing out loud.

 

Not all people were perfect, after all. Well, Akashi Seijuurou is, but he's a big jerk at heart so it doesn't count. And now this, - the nuthead honestly tried not to let himself be driven by humor - the ideal, bishounen guy he just met.

 

"I-It's not that I like it!"

 

He explained hurriedly. His ears were tinted in a bright shade of pink and he fixed his glasses to cope up with his anxiety. It's hilarious, it's almost adorable.

 

"It's just what the horoscope advices! This has nothing to do with anything." He tried to convince Furihata even more.

 

This time, the brunette bursted laughing. He just can't take it anymore.

 

"Ho... Horiscoop... Pft! Bwahahahahaha!"

 

"It's horoscope!"

 

This time, the guy with the beautiful eyelashes is now fuming with anger. The angry blush on his ears spread to the expanse of his pale face, creating a sight worth a million.

 

"Stop that! I don't appreciate my belief making fun of!"

 

"Okay. Okay," Furihata holds his hands up in mock surrender, wheezing. "I won't laugh. I won't laugh now, I promise... I won't laugh at your horiscoop-- pffft! Bwahahahaha!"

 

"Stop it! Stop it!"

 

...

 

A certain redhead came out of the door of the head office, gingerly holding a folder which was assumed to contain the application forms and enrollment requirements of his stepsibling.

 

Usually, you can't just barge in and enroll in an instant, much less to proclaim that you're coming to school in the next weekday. But with the prestige and power of an Akashi, - the corner of his mouth quirking into a slight smirk - it would surely be enough to shut them up and abide his orders.

 

"Akashi-kun."

 

A smooth voice called just beside him.

 

"Tetsuya. Pray tell me, what are you doing here?"

 

Akashi's beautiful, timid Tetsuya. Deep pools of sapphire stared back at him, unfaltering and void of any kind of emotion.

 

"I'm about to pass a late project of mine. How about you, Akashi-kun?"

 

"Oh. Nothing," Akashi said, casually lying through his teeth. His father told him not to let anyone know of this arrangement at first. "I'm just doing errands for my father."

 

The other eyed him skeptically before mumbling, "Ah, I see."

 

"Very well," Akashi's lips curved into a small, genuine smile. "I shall take my leave then, see you."

 

As the young redheaded gentleman departed, footsteps echoing as a vestige of his disappearing presence, Tetsuya remained gazing at his retreating figure, the glint in the shadow's eyes were mysterious, unreadable...

 

And dangerous.

 

"Furihata Kouki, eh?"

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't be shy dropping comments! I live and write stories for them!
> 
>  
> 
> And once again, see yah! Thank you for sparing our work some time!
> 
>  
> 
> <3 XD


	6. Doing Shopping Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Furihata looked completely mind blown as Akashi unceremoniously turned his heel. It took seconds before Furihata realized that he was once again, ladies and gentlemen, ditched by the great, sharp tongued Akashi Seijuurou. And it took him another set of seconds to realized that the demon left the deepshit heavy books beside his feet and he have no ideas - not even a map, goddamnit - of returning back home safe and sound and in one piece.
> 
>  
> 
> Furihata could feel his eyes twitch, a surge of fury boiling his blood at an alarming pace. He didn't care if he look like shit or if people looked at him as if he was going to explode.
> 
>  
> 
> "AKASHI!!!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, minna-san!
> 
> Please enjoy! XD

With rigorous, expedient strides, Akashi approached his stepsibling. Furihata seems delirious, looking like a total imbecile alone in the midst of nowhere.

 

"Could you please stop mirroring the expression of a half-wit, asylum detainee who was having a serious mental constipation? No offense, Furihata-kun, but it's very disturbing."

 

Akashi interrupted the other's musings by pointing out his initial thought. Furihata, though, was not clearly happy with his commentary.

 

"Well, excuse me for not being so drop dead gorgeous who always have the greatest initiative on almost every situation."

 

The brunette mumbled, hoping he was unheard. An argument with the redhead and having the last laugh was not exactly possible.

 

"Oh, so are you saying that I am, perhaps, gorgeous?"

 

Furihata's face burned. He almost choked up his own spit. He expected Akashi to be offended and outraged (and maybe wield out some kind of badass weapon and assault him until he's not functional anymore).

 

He thought that Akashi's teasing (with lots of mindfucking, manipulative words) was just a fluke. A momentary slip from his usual, indifferent and cruel demeanor. The fact that he isn't fueled the fire in his cowardly (but otherwise logical) mind to--

 

"A-Am not! I'm just merely saying hypothetically!" He dignified, looking indignant and childish but refusing to back down. He unleashed the statement before he could even think about it.

 

Oh. Oh fuck.

 

But fortunately, due to the mercy of all the deities, nymphs and fairies that guide and direct Akashi's mood swings, the redhead had actually pardoned his outburst and even tolerated him by retorting back.

 

"Oh, so does that mean you're implying that I am 'hypothetically' perfect and is therefore as you say it: drop dead gorgeous?" The redhead further pestered, aggravating his sibling's nerves even more.

 

'Don't answer back. Don't be fucking stupid and engage yourself in another trouble anymore, don't--'

 

"W-Whatever! I'm getting out of here!" Furihata exclaimed furiously, clearly pissed off (but still a little scared), as he started stalking away from the (not so gorgeous) creature that had making fun of his existence.

 

Akashi raised an elegant brow.

 

"Not as much as I desiderate. Oh and Furihata-kun?"

 

Said person whipped his head harshly and inquired (squeaked) with a rude, "What?"

 

"The realm where our private car was parked is right at the opposite direction you're heading to," Akashi smirked slyly at the changing expression of the brunette, harboring shameless amusement as it morphed from anger to gradual embarrassment.

 

"If you haven't arranged a call with another private service of us to come pick you up, I suggest you come this way - my way. Considering you don't have any fund with you at all."

 

Akashi's eloquent and highly fluent speaking may deter Furihata's self-esteem and confidence. But that doesn't hinder him from interpreting what the other is insinuating. Apparently he is not stupid like what other people think he was.

 

"E-Excuse you?" The words barely managed to leave his quivering mouth.

 

Akashi doesn't seem too intimidating right now. He looks mildly enthralled about what's happening even. Maybe Furihata could extend the limit of his bravery a little bit.

 

"For your information, I might be referring to another person. Oh and guess what? It's not you. I'm talking about someone else."

 

He excused, mind drifting to the young man with porcelain, perfect, advertisement-worthy skin, green hair (which actually works for him even if it's not supposed to be), and long, pretty eyelashes.

 

What he didn't anticipate coming was the slight, barely noticeable slitting of his brother's ruby eyes and the sudden terrifying change of aura surrounding him.

 

Uh-oh. He went too far.

 

"Uh... uhmm..."

 

"Hurry up." Akashi snapped, increasing his pace and leaving the brunette a scarce chance of matching his steps.

 

Furihata's temporary streak of courage dissipated and he is back to the recreant that he is, shrinking in fear and shaking like a leaf under the harsh weather. He willed his deeply rooted feet to run and catch up to the other.

 

"W-Wait--"

 

"The chauffeur is waiting for us. If you don't want to go, then stay here out cold." Akashi spat coldly, the teasing tone in his voice that was present a while ago was no longer evident.

 

Akashi and his bipolar tendencies. Well, not a good combination at all. Tsk.

 

...

 

"Uhh... Ano, Akashi-san?"

 

Furihata inquired awkwardly as the designer lifted his arms to reveal his slightly sweating (but definitely not stinking) armpits. With nimble hands, he measured every crevices and crannies of Furihata's body with the exact precision.

 

Beknown to Furihata's misery and utter discomfort (and yet maintaining that blood-boiling nonchalant facade), Akashi took a sip of tea and continued reading the newspaper.

 

Just how dare he display complete torpor on Furihata's torment?

 

"I presume you've known - by basic knowledge of normal Homo sapiens - that one of the fundamental warrants for entering a prestigious school is acquiring their required set of uniforms. Am I correct?"

 

'Oh no. Please don't make me look like an utter piece of shit again. You've done a very good job a while ago. But please spare me this once...'

 

"A-Akashi-san--"

 

Furihata stumbled on his words before he was interrupted.

 

"I understand that uniforms were the last thing a third-class school would deem as a necessity for their survival. But for a school as respected as mine, uniforms are sacred master pieces. They were tailored and hand-made by the greatest designers. So behave unless you wanted to end up looking stuck in a hanger, okay?"

 

Akashi said smoothly, gracefully. But his words cut through him like knife against butter.

 

Furihata was about to wallow himself in agony and pray for a hole to suck him when Akashi found another victim to sustain from his caustic attitude.

 

"I believe I'm done doing the needed measurements, Akashi-sama. You and your companion may take your leave now."

 

Akashi snapped his hostile gaze towards the man, his expression even more intense.

 

"Are you commanding me, mister? I leave whenever I want."

 

"S-Sumimasen, Akashi-sama. It's not in my intention to do so." In a swift motion, the middle-aged man bowed lowly.

 

Furihata gaped at Akashi's acrimony. He's too harsh, goodness. The brunette noted to himself not to make Akashi feel that he was ordered or something. Because he's a god and he's the only one who orders. Well except when it comes to his father, that's a whole new level of analysis and he has no plan comprehending it anytime soon.

 

His life is good. Well, so far.

 

"Kouki, pack your things and cinch the safety of your possessions right now. Were leaving. Hurry up."

 

The rancor on his tone didn't dissipate, that's why Furihata didn't think twice obliging him. He didn't know Akashi yet, but he's quite sure that he could murder someone who dares defying his ordain.

 

Akashi even held the door open for him. Traumatized by the fierce, sharp way Akashi said his name, Furihata obeyed as if he was a slave of a ferocious king.

 

But before fully exiting from the parlour, he heard the muffled voice of his stepsibling who was still inside the building.

 

"I may not report this to the higher-ups, you're lucky enough. But if you'll ever repeat such disobedience, I suggest you to hand your resignation letter to the main office before I do it myself."

 

"I consider myself lucky sir, I give you my sincerest gratefulness. I shall never repeat such unforgivable act ever again."

 

Wow. And there Furihata thought that Akashi had been in his crankiest behavior in a while.

 

"Shall we go to our next destination then, Furihata-kun?"

 

Truly, he didn't know Akashi at all.

 

...

 

"Akashi-saaaaan? How long are we going to roam around? My legs muscles were ripping out and the bags were heavyyyy! You got it? Heavyyyyyy."

 

Furihata whined as he caught up to his brother, gasping for air. Aside from the uniform, Akashi insisted that they should shop for his school supplies as well. He thoroughly declined Furihata's offer of reusing his half empty notebooks during his last school year. Father's orders, inappropriate and filthy, father's orders again, etc. Etc.

 

Akashi turned his back to face him. Furihata tried ignoring the gawks and gapes of almost all the ladies within the vicinity directed to them - or more like, to his redheaded sibling. 

 

Ok fine, he admits that he looks more like a trash when he is beside Akashi but does he really need audiences to rub that glorious factoid in front of his face? But of course not, no thank you.

 

"Please minimize your whining, Furihata-kun. You're not a kid anymore. I requested father to prohibit my servants of accompanying me."

 

"Does that mean you're going to turn me into one?"

 

The brunette groaned, but the other just continued.

 

"Now, let's head to the bookstore, we need to order your books. I queried the organizer to assign you at the same section as mine so you'll be having the same textbooks as mine too."

 

Amazing.

 

Now his chances of facing him frequently got even higher. Just, amazing. As if living in the same roof and forced to be on good terms was not actually enough. Awesome. He'll never be surprised if Akashi told him that he's going to guard him even until to the restroom as well.

 

He's actually thankful that the line wasn't really crowded. Well, not everyone got the chance to visit these kinds of malls either. They're more elegant and sophisticated, and you may need some sort of pass card in order to get through.

 

Akashi navigated through the large establishment, entering a huge bookstore as Furihata trailed after him. Just as they entered, Akashi disappeared in the thin air once again, leaving Furihata alone by himself.

 

He sighed. "I guess I would wait for him to materialize in front of me again, right?"

 

The brown head browse through rows and rows of brand new books ranging from textbooks to novels. He almost squawked as he read the price of one particular novel (sci-fi, because science fictions are to die for).

 

"I didn't know books could be this expensive! Heck, I could already buy 10 shirts for an amount like this!" He harshly whispered to himself.

 

"You!"

 

"Eh?" Furihata looked up from the book he's holding to meet the surprised eyes of the greenette he met a while ago. "Y-Yeah? It's me?"

 

"What are you doing here?" He asked a little rudely.

 

"Buying books, obviously?" The nuthead answered, unsure. His hands were getting clammy, damnit.

 

"Why do we have to meet again? After all the disgrace you've made? Oho-asa had not foreseen this."

 

"Uh... ano..."

 

"Shintarou. What an unforeseen encounter."

 

And yeah, just like the typical knight shining bright red hair, Akashi came in to the rescue, cutting in and inserting himself in the conversation as easy as breathing air.

 

The man referred to cleared his throat carefully before replying back, "Me neither, Akashi. Oho-asa had failed to forbode this meeting."

 

"As superstitious as usual, are you?" Akashi remarked, amusement present in his tone as he enjoyed the way 'Shintarou' diverted his gaze somewhere distant.

 

"I've heard the last phase of your conversation and I've assumed that you would like to discern how such a young man beside me is here right now."

 

The redhead dumped the two thick volumes of books he had been previously carrying to the stunned brunette before he continued his explanation.

 

"He was a son of one of the slaves in my father's manor. Because of his exceptional intelligence and infinite compassion for education, Father offered him a scholarship to enter our school."

 

"D-Did uncle really...?"

 

What? Just a while ago Akashi was treating him like a slave. Did he really intend to introduce him as one now?

 

"Wait, I can't quite understand--"

 

"Yes. Father was not usually swayed by mercy and pity but I'm sure that he has his own reasons of raising another pawn like him. By the way, this is Furihata Kouki. Furihata-san, this is Midorima Shintarou."

 

Midorima held his chin while he appeared to be cogitating.

 

"I understand. I believe Uncle can be quite unpredictable."

 

Akashi promptly checks his watch before dragging an already forgotten Furihata out of the bookstore.

 

"Well then, we shall depart from now. We still have a lot of things to accomplish within this day. Till we meet again. Thank you for the company, Shintarou."

 

"It is my honor, Akashi." Midorima offered a curt nod before setting out to mind his own business as well.

 

Furihata, however, was still in a state of buffering information. Why do they talk like businessmen? They acted as if they were closing a company deal a while ago! And the words! They were so fluent and high-class that Furihata had forgotten that they were still talking in Japanese!

 

It's actually traumatizing.

 

They were like aliens who understand only each other. And Midorima acted like he was as if Akashi's subordinate. Midorima bowed at him, answered all of his questions and avoided to pry on any details further.

 

Once he was snapped back to reality, Furihata tried to pull his wrist out of the other's grasp. He is still clutching two thick books and the arm holding it is almost close to ripping off.

 

"H-Hey! Why the hell did you lied?! Did you actually tell him that I was a son of one of your slaves?! Are you insane?"

 

Akashi released his hand abruptly and he stumbled a few steps backward. The legal Akashi heir walked passes him as if nothing happened.

 

"Hey! Do you realize that I am still talking to you--"

 

"Do you think Furihata-san," The redhead's head whipped to face him and Furihata's feet were rooted on the ground, "That if I'm going to introduce you as my half brother out of the blue to any person, there'll be no ruckus following such announcement?"

 

Oh. He got some point right there.

 

"Unlike you Furihata-san, I plan my steps. I didn't do something that could taint our name. I think you should start thinking like that too."

 

When it looks like Furihata is not yet done absorbing everything in his still disoriented brain, Akashi sighed softly, exposing his slight exhaustion.

 

"Come on. I know you're tired already. I could ask the helpers to buy the other things you'll need instead."

 

"Why don't you just made them buy all of these in the first place?"

 

Again, Akashi heave a small exhale. "It's been my father's request to accompany you as a form of--"

 

"Yeah, yeah, family bonding, brotherhood, sibling relationship etcetera, etcetera... It's really tedious y'know? Add it to the other business like things you've been dealing with. It must be tiresome."

 

Furihata replied silently, offering his brother a small smile. A genuine one though eversince the redheaded prick opened his mouth during their first meeting. Akashi stared back at him and returned his gesture by a slight quirk on his lips.

 

And for the very, very first time, Furihata thought that in this very moment, they have come into a mutual agreement. Maybe being an Akashi is not that bad. You see, the person infront of him might be a bastard sometimes (always) but at least he could be sensible when the situation requires him to. Furihata's hope kept on soaring until--

 

"What are you talking about? I am an Akashi, I am best at everything, I never get tired dealing with those things which were deemed essential. Maybe your talking to yourself, dimwit."

 

Furihata looked completely mind blown as Akashi unceremoniously turned his heel. It took seconds before Furihata realized that he was once again, ladies and gentlemen, ditched by the great, sharp tongued Akashi Seijuurou. And it took him another set of seconds to realized that the demon left the deepshit heavy books beside his feet and he have no ideas - not even a map, goddamnit - of returning back home safe and sound and in one piece.

 

Furihata could feel his eyes twitch, a surge of fury boiling his blood at an alarming pace. He didn't care if he look like shit or if people looked at him as if he was going to explode.

 

"AKASHI!!!"

 

He shouted like a battle cry before barely lifting the paper bag and stomping off angrily.

 

...

 

Akashi chuckled softly as he heard a familiar shriek echoing from the location not very far from his. The brunette was slightly entertaining when he is riled up. But not as entertaining as his favourite set of mystery novels.

 

With graceful steps, he paced further away from the person he was hiding from. There's still a lot of time, maybe ge could enthrall himself for a while. Furihata might be stupid, but he's not stupid enough to accidentally choke himself to death.

 

Right?

 

Perhaps he could go back to the bookstore and check some of the new arrivals. Kuroko told him about a certain book he would love to read. It was due to be released this time around. Conceivably he could buy one and give it to him as a gift. That could be very considerable.

 

He just have to leave his sibling to his own devices for awhile, pray dearly that he wouldn't set the whole establishment in fire, buy the book, redeem him somewhere and go home. 

 

Alternatively, he could also walk in the main office of the building, announce that Furihata is missing and give a huge prize to the one who could find him. But that won't do, some of his family's 'friends' could be here and they might report his mischief to his father.

 

Why is he sweating the matter anyway? It's not that he cares about his sibling's well being. It's not like he's concerned whether he is terrified or not right now. He just wants to buy Tetsuya the book he clearly wanted and leave.

 

...

 

Akashi went out of the store clearly satisfied. He didn't just bought the first book. He later knew that it actually comes in trilogy so basically, he took the whole set. He couldn't wait to see what would be the cyan haired boy's reaction. Beyond impressed, perhaps.

 

Now, he's got to find Furihata.

 

Smoothly maneouvering himself in crowds, he searched through the missing brunette. He scanned every person, checked every shopped and even went to the restrooms.

 

And yet the were no signs of him.

 

His chest grew wary as he rake the whole room even more agilely. Against his awareness, his pulse quicken.

 

The image of Furihata Kouki accidentally meeting his stupid death somewhere inside the mall haunted him as he fastened his movements.

 

Just... Where is he?

 

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooooo, do you like it? Give us comments and kudos, please? *puppy eyes*


	7. Princess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Akashicchi!" Kise chirped, unfaze by the ominous aura Akashi was emitting which only intensifies as seconds passed. "You see, I was looking for this new brand of shoes at the Sports section when I found this one," Kise lifted him a little to emphasize his point, ignoring his futile struggling, "lurking inside the Lingerie area! Isn't he cute?!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have fun!

Wide ruddy eyes darted frantically across the sea of people. Akashi dashed madly as he searched for his brother. His father would surely erupt into rampage once he knew about his missing son. That's why, Akashi has to find him before he did. He still have enough time and if things went smoothly - considering that he's precious brother would cooperate, stay in one place and wait for a rescue dutifully - he could fortunately maneuver them out of this mess unscathed.

 

As his brisk pace developed into a full sprint, Akashi tried not to think about the worst scenarios. Images of Furihata being kidnapped without him to handle the situation logically or worse, shot down by an adept sniper who had been stealthily hiding and patiently waiting for the right opportunity - which is right now. He dismissed the butlers just a while ago for he didn't want to be mocked by the other brats. Besides, the security around he was top notch, there's no need for servants fussing over him like he can't even do anything.

 

But this is about Furihata. The brunette was still fresh around this kind of environment. He didn't have enough exposure to these kinds of things and hence he had no experiences of managing this type of circumstances - like for example, being lost inside an elite mall without bringing any form of communication device, not even a phone. And he could be clumsy as well; he might miss his step while riding the escalator and fracture a rib or two, he might get himself stuck at the revolving door, panic, forget how to breathe and suffocate himself accidentally or he might just randomly slip at the wet tiles and crack his skull.

 

The redhead calmed himself. His sibling is not yet gone for far too long. He could still be lurking somewhere around here. He flipped his smartphone open and tapped his fingers on the screen swiftly.

 

"Shintarou, presuming you're still inside the establishment, could you do me a private favor?'

 

...

 

He's lost.

 

Furihata came into realization upon discovering himself at the lingerie area with no red-haired demon stalking him and no idea of where is he. He had no recollection of the stalls and shops he passed by. And truthfully, he rather deal with his brother's perfectionist behavior all day than be lost in a foreign building with no clue how to get out. Maybe he should report himself missing at the head office department?

 

Uggh. But he sounded like a seven year old kid. He couldn't imagine the laughters of the officers upon knowing his pitiful situation. So, going to the headquarters: crossed out. He must at least attempt something, the dismissed idea would be his last resort. Furihata dragged his feet towards the waiting benches, maybe he could ask those few people sitting for his brother. Surely, if they spotted a redhead, that would be Akashi. Nobody gets to win the genetic lottery every day and grow up with such hair of gorgeous hue.

 

Not that he's actually admitting that Akashi's hair was beautiful, well kind of --no, not kind of or --okay, perhaps a little. 'It's just a description, besides that's what people around him say', Furihata explained to himself stubbornly.

 

That is his original plan. Well, not if you accidentally bumped into someone because your head was floating on the soup of your own stupidity. It's not totally his fault though, Furihata reasoned. The person himself was just as sidetracked for he was dashing like an inconsiderate, insensitive, totally bastardic mad man with gusto, oblivious to the sufferings of the poor, adorable, pathetic victim who happens to be Furihata Kouki. The brunette collected himself as well as his mind to give a piece of mind to this ugly, snotfaced, wimpy--

 

"Gomenasai!" The person apologized, hurriedly picking his numerous paper bags as if he was chased by a pack of wolves. His blonde hair (which looks soft, by the way) was bobbing in his chaste movements, "I am actually in a hurry, I'm sorry, I'm not paying attention on my way--"

 

Furihata was knocked out of his breath upon seeing the godlike blonde in front of him. His face seemed to be crafted by the gods above the heavens (he briefly considered that he was a god himself), his jaw was sharp and chiseled, his lips curved in the most perfect bow and his eyes were in between melted gold and honey. He found himself entirely awestruck and impossibly embarrassed for even standing next to him. It's not that often to see someone this unbelievably handsome (and what more of encountering two within the day? Akashi was purposely not counted). Maybe he could stare some more, this creature was probably used to these kind of tendencies of normal, insignificant, completely ordinary people anyways.

 

The blonde looked equally stunned too. He's looking back at Furihata with the same expression too. But unlike the brunette, he quickly composed himself.

 

"Like what you see?" He asked cockily.

 

Everything about him appeared to be pulled out from the fairytales young girls read during the day and dreamed during the night... except for the moment he opened his mouth. He's just like every rich kid he knew, Furihata thought bitterly. No one's undeniably melting looks could deter him now.

 

But instead of answering him with a smartass response, he instead blurted out, "You definitely love making other people looked like imbecilic, aren't you?"

 

And for the record, he rendered Mr. Handsome as Hell shocked for the second time. He's even more taken aback when the stranger started bubbling in laughter, his eyes sparkling with mirth. Furihata looked at him dumbly, fatuously waiting for his next reaction. It takes the man a minute or two to calm down and wheezed, "You've got my type of humor, stranger-san."

 

"O-Okay?" Furihata said slowly, growing more anxious as the other's stare intensifies. And now he knew why eyeing a person longer than what is necessary was seriously creepy. Even though this case is different, considering that the aforementioned persona was someone drop-dead ravishing, the same principle applies. Well, if you're a hormonal teenage girl with great fascinations for knights in shining armor then you may love the attention (like all the other ladies glaring over him like vultures over rats near the vicinity).

 

"I'm Kise Ryouta." He chirped happily, enthusiasm growing in an alarming speed. Furihata could almost visibly detect his pheromones spreading and attracting a frightening amount of female primates and Furihata made a pathetic effort of calming himself because crowds are the lasts in his list when it comes to harmless things--

 

"I am a part-time model, so I guess you knew me already," and still Kise continued, paying the gathering throng of people no mind as if he was born to please them as a part of his everyday routine. "And I presumed this bumping was actually planned. But don't worry, I'm kind of used to this types of tactics and I could probably forgive you because you captured me with your good humor and more importantly--" Kise paused to lean so that they're face to face but Furihata was so distracted because 'why was he so damn tall and why was puberty hitting him like a shitty ten wheeler truck'--

 

"You're cute." And that's it.

 

The brunette couldn't even feel how the other's slender, perfectly manicured fingers pinched his nose to emphasize his point. He took too long to register someone recognizing the model and shouting for his autograph. And that's the cue before the other vultures swarmed for the kill. Kise clamped his wrist in a vice grip before pulling him into an escape.

 

"Hey! Why are you dragging me?!" He shouted in the middle of the run, desperately gasping to provide enough oxygen for his lungs.

 

"To salvage you before they tried tearing you apart!" The blonde yelled back, "I once talked to a fan casually and a lot got furiously jealous! You knew what happened next!"

 

"I can't run this fast!" True, because his legs were running out and the guy was undoubtedly an athlete.

 

"Then," Kise stopped abruptly, Furihata cast him an incredulous look because the horde was fast approaching, "I'll carry you!" He proclaimed, mercifully sparing the brown head a second or two to digest the situation before lifting him up, evident in his eyes was his thirst for adventure.

 

"Oh no. Oh nononono, don't even--" And before he could even finish his sentence, the blonde was already scampering faster than ever, carrying Furihata in his arms like he weighed no more than a pillow.

 

...

 

'I'm still inside the mall, yes,' the voice on the line affirmed his assumptions, 'what do you want me to do?'

 

"Have you recollected the boy who was accompanying me a while ago?" Akashi uttered hastily, checking the racks of one particular shop before sprinting outside and looking through another store.

 

Midorima went silent before saying, 'If I remembered correctly, his name was Furihata.'

 

"Good," Akashi muttered as he stealthily browses the gaps of each shelf inside the dress coat department, "assist me for tracking him down. I've lost sight of him when I returned back to the bookstore."

 

The other, for the second time, was muted for a second, 'I'm sorry but I fail to comprehend the situation, Akashi,' The addressed person furrowed his brows upon hearing this, 'he's too old to be this stupid and I think the most effective resolution here is to report him as missing.'

 

"I had chosen that decision a while ago if I could," Akashi snapped, omitting the phrase 'I'm not stupid' in his sentence, "I need your immediate help, if you may."

 

'I understand, I'll inform my butlers right away--'

 

"Don't tell your butlers either," Akashi interrupted. Enough people had seen the face of his half sibling for the day. And it's better to keep Furihata's profile as low as possible before the news was released officially by his father. He's planning to tell Midorima about this already, but he supposed today was not yet the right time.

 

'I'll address it without any delay. I'll notify you as soon as I spotted him.'

 

"Please do."

 

...

 

"Does this look like a scene from a romantic korean drama, eh, Furihata-kun?" Kise wheezed, his speed not in the least deccelerating. Furihata was perfectly sure anyone could fry an egg on his heated face, the sound of Kise's charming laugh like this is what he was born to do didn't help either.

 

The brunette let out a shrill yelp when Kise rounded a sharp corner. He could hear the faint sounds from their pursuers as their distance from them gradually grew until they've lost track of the model already. Kise, however, refused to put him down even after the whole ruckus. Some elderly ladies had already been casting them weird glances, one woman even commented about their almost vulgar level of intimacy and about how Japan had improved emotionally and psychologically after all these years.

 

"I really looked like a prince charming in a disney movie, huh?" If you could fry an egg on his face earlier, now you could boil a kettle of water. "I bet you're already in love with me~" Kise joked. Well, it's partially true, given that you're not lost like a snotty, seven year old brat in a random mall and there's actually a red haired witch seeking for your head in righteous fury. A shiver ran down his spine, he could definitely feel Akashi's wrath wrecking him right now. If only this gorgeous thing could put him and help him solve this tragic conundrum.

 

"Kise-san, you could put me down now," Furihata reprimanded, distracting himself from the bobbing of the blonde's adam's apple and instead focusing on a certain part of his shoulder. He's so utterly focused that he didn't noticed when Kise abruptly stopped. It took him a minute to realize that fact before looking up to see what makes him halt all of the sudden. He could feel his blood ran cold and he's contemplating multiple masterplans of escaping the situation unscathed. At once. 

 

He was greeted with a familiar face.

 

A very familiar face.

 

"It seems that I've been meeting a lot of colleagues right now." There, opposite of them, about 3 meters in distance, stood Akashi Seijuurou. A disheveled (but not strangely attractive, no) and very angry Akashi Seijuurou, glaring them down like they're the most abominable menace in his perfect, no-mistakes-allowed life.

 

"Akashicchi!" Kise chirped, unfaze by the ominous aura Akashi was emitting which only intensifies as seconds passed. "You see, I was looking for this new brand of shoes at the Sports section when I found this one," Kise lifted him a little to emphasize his point, ignoring his futile struggling, "lurking inside the Lingerie area! Isn't he cute?!"

 

Akashi coughed, "As much as I am nonchalant about your typical, childish behaviour of scooping what you deemed was fascinating and bringing them back home, I am afraid that what you're holding right now was the son of my servant and you have to put him down because we need to go back to the chauteau before evening."

 

Kise let out a whining noise, looking incredulous, "But I saw him first~" Eventhough he abhorred those who steal what he owns, he couldn't disobey the redhead. Akashi is a shrewd, dangerously brilliant young man, he could get really scary if someone refused his orders. Silently, he released Furihata until the brunette had his feet surely planted on the ground. "I hope I could see you again sometime, Furihatacchi~" he sang softly, right beside the smaller teen's ear. He smirked as he felt the other tensed at his words.

 

"Let's go, Furihata-san," said person was completely taken aback by the slender hand that shot up to grab his wrist in a vice grip, "Otou-san must be expecting for us at the manor already." Furihata could vaguely register Kise's enthusiastic 'goodbye's and 'see ya's as Akashi pulled him a little harshly down at the ground floor until at the exit.

 

...

 

"Don't dare do that ever again." Akashi repremanded, slightly panting. They were now inside the car. The butlers were arranging the things they brought inside the trunk and getting ready for departure. Furihata sat near the left window and next to Akashi, one of the butlers vacating the extra space beside the redhead. The brunette fiddled his fingers, trying to avoid the piercing gaze from his sibling.

 

"You left me there, okay? It's just natural for me to find you," Furihata explained, already anticipating that he's going to lose if he argued any further.

 

"You should have just stayed there if you didn't know the way inside. Or if you're any smarter, you could have just asked for a map," Akashi insisted.

 

The engine revved to life, the car begun moving away from the parking space. Furihata twisted and pulled his lower body so that he was kneeling on the seat and facing the backseat window. He stared at the glamorous building getting smaller and smaller as their vehicle accelerated away from it. Akashi, mentally exhausted from all those chaos, refrained from scolding him any more.

 

"You shouldn't have done that."

 

Furihata made the mistake of gazing back at those eyes. Akashi was already staring at him, sanguine pupils holding myriad of emotions he can't perfectly decipher (mostly annoyance but with a minute tenderness and almost non-evident worry). He almost got himself drown in those deep pools if not when the car suddenly skidded into a prompt halt that the spell was broken. With great effort, he tore his eyes away.

 

"I-I thought we already established that," Furihata murmured, industriously bowing his head and refusing to meet Akashi's eyes ever again.

 

"I know. I just thought maybe you need some emphasis," without any warning, he grabbed the brownhead's nearest hand to put them firmly on his chest. The impact of the immediate movement almost made Furihata stumbled straight into his sibling's lap. Thankfully, he balanced himself right at the last minute.

 

"Wh-What the... What the fuck--" Furihata barely stuttered. Akashi remained nonchalant from his shock for he never released the other's hand. The brunette was silent in a second, pondering what kind of scheme Akashi was planning this time. Is he showing off how sculpted his chest was from his excercise trainings? Admittedly, he got a physically, lean body (n-not that great, but he has his own... potential), but did he have to rub it off in front of Furihata's face?

 

It took Furihata a moment before realizing what the other was implying. Throbbing beneath the skin of his palm was Akashi's heart, pulsing erratically from the rush of adrenaline that was already wearing off. He must be running a lot awhile ago, Furihata thought with begrudging guilt.

 

"Don't do that again, okay?"

 

Furihata sighed, smiling slightly, "Okay."

 

...

 

Dinner went through quietly. Since Furihata was yet to take a course at table ettiquette and manners, Akashi have to spend the next thirty minutes patiently discussing what kind of tableware would be more appropriate to use at a given cuisine. Masaomi, already midway in his dessert, watched them with mild interest before excusing himself to retreat inside the isolation of his study room.

 

The rest of the evening was spent inside their currently shared bedroom. Furihata's sleeping chamber was almost ready but their father insist him to stay the night with his brother for the last time.

 

"Today had been a long day."

 

Akashi concluded, unceremoniously taking off his shirt and cherishing the moment when Furihata averted his eyes, his cheeks glowing red.

 

"D-Don't you have anywhere to change your clothes?"

 

Akashi only chuckled, "I found it useless considering that there's nothing wrong if I undress here because it is MY bedroom. Why, are you conscious, Kouki?"

 

"I-I'm not!" The brunette defended, his blush betraying nothing but himself. His exclaimation driven Akashi to laugh even more.

 

With heavy feet, he stomped his way to the bathroom adjacent with the bedroom. He tried - desperately tried - to shoo unnecessary thoughts away. Like Akashi, his defined collar bone and the slight tone (in the very young age of fifteen years old, wow. And Furihata has yet to grow out of his baby fats, is the universe mocking him?) of his developing abs--

 

The door from the bathroom opened, revealing Furihata, clad in his brother's slightly large pajamas (the sleeve mostly, considering that they were tailor made for Akashi's larger arms. This made Furihata even insecure with his lanky frame. He was not conscious of it before until now. Blame it all to Akashi)

 

The redhead was already reclining on the bed, a pocket book in hand. Most of the lights were already turned off, save for the lampshade nearest to him. Silently, Furihata made his way towards the bed.

 

"Goodnight," Furihata mumbled against the pillow.

 

When he was surely snoring, Akashi closed his reading material with a soft tap and put off the last spec of light source.

 

"Goodnight," he finally whispered against the rows of gigantic pillows barricading him from his brother like soft, tender boundaries.

 

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for following the story! Please drop some kudos and comments for me?

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you! Thank you so much!
> 
> Don't hesitate dropping comments and kudos!
> 
> Ja neh!


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